


Sickness

by MissHorrorshow



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies RPF, Thor (Movies) RPF, War Horse RPF
Genre: Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-20 07:01:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissHorrorshow/pseuds/MissHorrorshow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom gets attacked by a mugger in NYC and an unexpected heroine on heroin comes to his rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sickness

Tom’s body ached, racked with pain. He felt sick to his stomach, and tears pricked the corners of his eyes.  The man who attacked him pulled his wallet from his pocket, cheering triumphantly. “Whoo! Fuck yeah, jackpot mother fucker! Woo, you got some bank, boy! This wallet’s fatter than my dick, oh yeah!” The pale, tattooed form in the black wife-beater and black jeans was barely visible from Tom’s swollen eyes. “I think Im’ma take you home with me, would you like that, dude?”  
  
Soon, Tom felt himself dragged and thrown into the backseat of a car, and the car sped away into the night. Tom reached weakly for his cell phone, only to find it crushed and useless in his pocket. Fucking Apple touch screen trash.  
  
After an unknown amount of time, the car screeched to a halt, and Tom was thrown over the brute’s shoulder and carried into what looked to be a shack in the middle of nowhere.  
  
“Vierra! VIERRA! Hope you’ve got your fucking clothes on, we’ve got company!” the man announced.  
  
“Who is it, Jake? Not your drunk-ass brother again, he hurt me real bad last time.” Tom heard a sickly, feminine voice call from a back bedroom.  The possessor of the voice slowly became visible.  She was a bottle blonde with garish brown roots showing, her skin was sickly pale, and her eyes were rimmed in countless layers of black and grey framing crystal blue sapphire irises.  She wore a t-shirt 4-5 times too large for her that barely clung to her waifish frame.  
  
“Jake! What did you do?!” she questioned in a raspy shriek.  
“I scored big for us, baby.  This fucker is rich as FUCK!”  
“Why’d you bring him back here?! Why didn’t you leave him?!”  
“Bitch, are you stupid?!” Jake hissed, striking Vierra’s cheek, sending her collapsing to the ground, “If he’s got this much money in his wallet, he’s got who knows how much more in the bank! You stupid dope whore, you’d be starving in the street if you didn’t have me to think for you!”  
  
The woman whimpered softly, her eyes hollow and fractured.  In the midst of his agony, Tom almost felt for her.  
  
“You, stay with him! I’m gonna go buy us some supplies.  He better not get away or die, or you will pay, Vierra, I swear it!”  
“No, Jake, he won’t, I promise.” Vierra answered meekly.  
  
Jake left, and as soon as Vierra knew he was gone, she cautiously made her way over to where Tom lay, moaning, on the floor, and she was like a frightened deer approaching someone she didn’t know was a hunter or not.  
“Hey…hey…you ok, baby?”  
Tom could only moan, lightheadedly, in reply.  
“Jake fucked you up, man. This isn’t good. I don’t like that he does that.” she said, sidling up to Tom, brushing the matted curls out of his eyes.  
Tom began to gag.  
“Oh no, oh man, roll on your side. Your side, man!” Vierra instructed, helping Tom roll onto his right side just in time for him to vomit streams of bright, crimson blood.  
“Help me.” Tom pleaded weakly.  
Vierra began to sob.  
“I can’t, Jake will kill me. But you can’t die, you can’t die.  You look like such a nice guy. Why does Jake do this? Oh man. Ok, ok, you gotta go. I can’t let you die like this, man.”  
  
Vierra’s eyes darted around the room, as if she were looking for an escape route.  
“Think you can walk?” she questioned.  
“Help me up.” Tom asked.  
  
Vierra helped him to his feet and was somehow able to bolster his weight with her skeletal frame.  
  
“Ok, ok…I have a friend who lives a block from here, ok.  She has a car.  Im’ma get her to take you to the hospital, ok? Then, I gotta hide somehow, but it’s not the first time. Let’s go.”  
  
Vierra helped Tom to her friend’s apartment, and she banged, frightened, on the door.  
  
“The fuck is it?!” a shrill voice howled from the other side of the door.  
“Vierra, Aggie, open the door!”  
  
A tall, slender black woman with a cascade of black ringlets answered the door in a lavender kimono-style robe.  
“The fuck is this, Vierra?!” she demanded to know.  
“Aggie, Jake fucked him up and he’s puking blood, you gotta take him to the ER right now.”  
“Nuh-uh. Uh-uh! I’m tired of cleaning up the mess every time Jeff fucks up, no way, Vierra, not this time.”  
Vierra sobbed.  
“Aggie, he’s gonna die.  He didn’t do nothing.  He’s not even from here. Sounds British or something. Please Aggie!”  
“Fuck, Vierra! FINE! Let me get dressed. Go put him in the backseat!” Aggie ordered, tossing Vierra her car keys.  
  
Vierra helped Tom lay carefully into the backseat of the car.  
“Ok, do me a favor and don’t die, ok? Don’t die, man. I’m so fucking sorry. So sorry.”  
“It’s ok.  Get out of here before he comes home.”  
“Ok, yeah, gotta do that.  Hey, what’s your name, man?”  
“”Tom.  My name is Tom.”  
“Hi, Tom.  Don’t you die, ok? Promise me!”  
“I promise.” Tom vowed, losing consciousness.  
Vierra whimpered, and placed a trembling kiss on Tom’s temple.  
“Forget me. Forget this place. Forget this ever happened.”  
  
…………  
  
Tom awoke in a non-descript hospital room.  Sitting by his bed was his sister.  
“Oh my God, Tom! I was so terrified!” she wept, clinging to him tightly.  
“I’m ok. What happened?” Tom queried.  
“You were mugged and kidnapped.  You were dumped in front of the ambulance bay here.  No one saw the car. It was touch and go for a while.  You had massive internal bleeding, broken bones…they weren’t sure if you’d even…” she couldn’t even finish the sentence.  
“I’m ok now.  I’m safe. But I’m so tired.”  
“Ok, you rest.  I’ll go get some lunch and come right back, ok?”  
“Ok. See you soon.” Tom whispered, falling into a deep sleep.  
  
The dreams came.  The attack, then her face.  
“Don’t die…promise me!”  
  
Tom sat up with a start, in a cold sweat.  
  
“Vierra!” he shouted into the room.  
“Who’s that?” his sister questioned.  
“I…don’t know.  Everything’s still fuzzy.”  
  
Months of rehab, counseling, it got to be ridiculous after a while.  Before long, Tom was back to his former life and back to work with only faint memories of what happened.  That was, at least, a small comfort.  The name haunted him, and faint flashes of her face would haunt his dreams.  Then, one stormy night memories came flooding back.  
  
“Jake’s gonna kill me, but I can’t let you die…”  
  
Tom couldn’t understand the ache that called him back to that place, but in his mind’s eye her head was haloed in moonlight and car headlights, like a guardian angel.  He couldn’t walk away.  
  
He took a red-eye flight, fear and some other emotion he didn’t fully understand tearing through his guts.  
  
He wandered through the sickeningly familiar streets, calling her name into the night.  
  
“Vierra! Vierra!” he called, arms wrapped tightly and protectively across his middle, drizzling rain soaking his curls.  He came upon what he soon realized was a hooker stroll. “Vierra!”  
“Who are you looking for, cutie?” a sickly, Hispanic woman asked him.  
“Her name’s Vierra.” he answered.  
“She’s one block over. Don’t know why you want her, though. Her ex-old man fucked her up real good.”  
Tom ran as fast as his feet could carry him.  There, under the jaundiced glow of a street light, he saw her.  Her hair was black now, but her fractured, blue eyes were exactly the same.  Her once angelic face was marked on both cheeks with deep scars.  She sat up against a cold, brick wall, somehow thinner than when he last saw her, barely alive.  
“Oh, fuck, Vierra!” Tom gasped, dropping to his knees.  
“Mister, please. I’m really sick. I’m dope sick.  I tried to kick, I haven’t used for a couple of weeks now, but I haven’t eaten either and I’m real sick. Please don’t hurt me, mister.”  
“Hey, hey, Vierra, stay with me, hun, it’s Tom.  It’s Tom.” he told her, wrapping her up in his leather jacket.  
“Tom? Why are you here? Did you die? Am I in Heaven?”  
“No, sweetheart, I promised you I’d live, didn’t I? Now it’s your turn, promise me now.”  
“Hey, man, I don’t know if I can…” she began, losing consciousness.  
Tom hurriedly pulled out his phone, dialing 911.  
“Please hurry.  She’s lost consciousness.  Her name’s Vierra. You’ve got to help her, please!”  
  
……………  
  
Weeks passed as Vierra worked her way through rehab.  It was a lot better than her attempt to kick on the street.  She’d been clean so long now she didn’t remember why she ever started using in the first place, until she remembered how Jake had come into her life, put the needle into her arm when she was 14 and whisked her away from home.  
  
Her fellow rehab residents were gathered around the communal TV.  
“Hey, Alice is about to share her ‘Thor’ DVD! You gonna watch with us, Vierra?”  
“Why not? Got nothing better to do.”  
Vierra took a seat and the film began.  Minutes in, her heart stopped.  
“The fuck?!” she whispered under her breath.  
“Ooh, look at that dude in the green! Now that’s a sexy bitch there!” one of the residents cat-called.  
Vierra stood up, moving closer to the TV.  She knew that beautiful face, the arms that enfolded her until the ambulance came.  The man she herself once saved.  
“Vierra, why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost, girl?” another resident asked.  
Vierra dropped to her knees, caressing the face on the screen.  
“Ooh, I think she’s in love!”  
Vierra fled to her room, silent tears tracing their way down her cheeks.  
  
A couple of hours later, there was a soft tapping at her door.  
“Vierra, you got a delivery!”  
Vierra opened her door to see the face of one of the rehab aides, arms barely holding a massive bouquet of flowers.  
“This just came for you. Mind giving me a hand?”  
Vierra took it, setting it on her side table.  She pulled out the card and read it.  
“Here’s to three and a half months clean and sober.  I am so very proud of you.  Remember your promise.  Tom.”  
Vierra cried softly, scarred cheeks lifted up in a wide smile.  
  
Two more weeks passed, and it was time for Vierra to return to the real world.  She had no idea where she would go, but she felt so blessed to have a fresh start.  She packed the last of her things and prepared to go.  A rehab aide stopped by to make sure she had everything.  
“Yup, all packed up.”  
“Good deal.  Keep up the good work, ok?”  
“Yeah, I plan to.” Vierra promised with a soft smile.  
“Good.  Ok, there’s a car here for you.”  
“Seriously?”  
“Yeah.  You weren’t expecting anyone?”  
“Not…really.” Vierra replied, curious.  
She carried out her bags to the front of the rehab where a sleek, black car with darkly tinted windows waited.  
“Who the fuck is this?” she asked no one in particular.  
The driver’s side door opened and her would-be chauffer stepped out.  
“You look amazing!” he gasped.  
“Tom?! The fuck dude?!” Vierra shrieked, giggling and throwing herself into his arms as a pure reflex.  Then, she gave him a mighty slap to his stubbled cheek.  
“What was that for?!” he asked, confused.  
“Why didn’t you tell me you were some kinda movie star?!” she questioned him.  
“When was I supposed to fit that in? When I was coughing up blood or when I was trying to keep you from dying in the street?”  
“I don’t know.  Somewhere. Like, ‘Help me, by the way, I’m a movie star, and when I’m not at death’s door, I’m really fucking gorgeous and I have the biggest heart in the whole fucking world and I saved a piece of gutter trash when I should’ve never come back, ever!” Vierra shouted, eyes flooding with tears.  
“Hey, hey…does it make any difference?” he asked softly, wiping her tears away.  
“Yes.  No.  I don’t know.  You coulda told me you were some kinda magic god.” she joked with a soft laugh.  
“And you were my guardian angel, so now we’re even, right?”  
Vierra gripped Tom’s t-shirt, pulling him into a desperate kiss.  
Tom gripped her back, smiling into the kiss at how her frame had filled out, and her new curves felt so warm and healthy against his body.  
Before he realized it, the words spilled from his lips.  
“Come with me…” he whispered against her cheek.  
“You don’t want me, Tom. I’m damaged goods.”  
“So am I.  Maybe together we can put our remaining good parts together and make each other whole, hmm?”  
“Did you seriously just say that?” Vierra teased with a soft chuckle.  
“What? I thought it sounded romantic.”  
“It sounded cheesy, but fuck it, I like it. Ok, fine. Where are we going?”  
“Far, far away from here.  We’re never looking back, ever.”  
“You promise?”  
“Yes.  And I always keep my promises, don’t I?”  
Vierra kissed Tom deeply once more.  
“What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't one of the best fics I've written, but it has a special place in my heart. I'm in love with idea of Tom with a woman not classically considered attractive and the idea that being a good person (as Vierra ends up being) means a lot more than looks. This is fantasy after all, right?


End file.
